Paper and Fire (The Great Library #2)(50)

It was no good. Wolfe’s buried scream was growing louder and he wasn’t listening.

“That’s enough,” Santi shouted, and lunged forward. “Bring him out! Now!” He sounded as shaken as Jess felt.

“All right,” Quest said. “Scholar Wolfe! Scholar!” He briskly tapped Wolfe’s forehead, then his shoulder, then the back of his hand. “Exeunt!”

Wolfe’s cry stopped cleanly, and he slumped back in his chair, utterly limp. Santi shoved Quest out of the way and sank down to a crouch beside Wolfe to take his hand. He was checking the other man’s pulse, Jess realized, as much as holding his hand.

Wolfe slowly raised his head. His color was terrible and his eyes looked dull and strange, but they were open, and after a blank moment that seemed to stretch forever, he looked directly at Santi and said, “It must have been terrible if you look so worried.”

Jess saw the intense relief flash over the captain’s face before his expression closed again. “Not so bad,” Santi lied. “And now you’re back.”

Wolfe put his hand over Santi’s, and there it was again: a little flash of gentleness, sorrow, love. Jess looked away, and when he turned back, Santi was rising to his feet and turning to Quest. “You, Mesmer,” Santi said. “Get out. If there’s any whisper about any of this, I’ll kill you.”

“Sir,” Quest said, “I am a professional. There is no need to threaten.” He hesitated for a moment and then said, “And as a professional, I would be wrong not to tell you that something terrible was done to your friend, and that will fester inside if the wound isn’t lanced. I am willing to offer my continued services at a reasonable—”

“It’s none of your business,” Santi said. “Jess. Get rid of him. Now.”

Jess nodded and grabbed Quest’s arm to tow him to the door. He handed over the second, heavier sack of geneih coins—the half Quest was due, plus a hefty bonus. “Leave,” he said. “Forget about this. He’s quite serious about killing you if you don’t.”

“Risk of the trade,” Quest sighed. “But take my advice for your poor Scholar. Find someone who can guide him through that pain. He needs help. I’ve seen it kill stronger men.” He seemed earnest in that moment and not at all trying to make another fee. As if he was actually, genuinely worried.

“Thanks,” Jess said, and meant it. He hailed the little man a carriage. “Don’t make me find you again.”

Quest grinned suddenly. His teeth were surprisingly white. “If I didn’t want to be found, you’d never manage it. One street rat to another, you know that’s truth.”

Then he was gone.

Jess went back inside. “Is he all right?”

“Still here, Brightwell. Thanks for your concern,” Wolfe said. His voice sounded unnaturally low and hoarse as he cradled his head in both hands. “Did you find out what you needed?”

“Yes,” Jess said. “I think so.”

“Then get out.”

“I’m sorry you had to do this—”

“For the love of all the gods, get out!” Wolfe raised his head, and his eyes were wet and streaming with blinding tears of pain and fury. He grabbed for a book and hurled it at Jess with great force. It was only a Blank, but Jess understood just how out of control the man was to fling it.

“Jess,” Santi said. “Go. You have what you wanted. Now I have to help him live through the consequences.”

Jess swallowed hard, nodded, and rolled up the notes he’d made. He closed the door at his back and leaned against it for a long moment with his eyes shut. He tried to forget the awful, tortured sound of Wolfe’s keening.

On the way back to the barracks, he sent coded messages using people he trusted to alert Khalila and Dario to what he’d found out. It was only fair to tell everyone at once. Everyone but Glain, who’d probably deck him hard for what he’d done to Wolfe. Her, he could leave for last.

He was halfway to the barracks when he turned a corner and saw a person lurking ahead, wearing a coat too warm for the weather with the hood raised. His instincts pricked him hard as needles, and he slowed his steps. The shadowy figure melted into an alcove halfway down the block; there weren’t many people out in these dark hours, and the moon was half-hidden behind high, thin clouds. Perfect conditions, he realized, for an assassination, if the Archivist meant to launch one.

Jess moved with deliberate, casual confidence, and eased his knife free of the sheath at his belt as he walked on. He had to use his left hand to keep the knife from view of his would-be killer, who lurked on the right. He wondered whether he should whistle. Might seem too much.

He kept his speed calm and steady as he drew near the alcove, then past it, and when he felt movement behind him, he turned, grabbed hold of the person rushing at him, and jabbed the point of his dagger up under a soft chin.

The hood fell away. The moon whispered out of the clouds overhead and threw a soft, pale light over both of them.

Jess’s lips parted and he let go, because the girl facing him, the girl he’d almost killed, was Morgan Hault.





EPHEMERA



From On Further Nature of the Elements, a late work of the great Archimedes, collected from that master Scholar in the first years of the Great Library. Available on the Codex.